


Crawling Along The Hours

by DetectiveJoan



Series: The Balance of Joy [3]
Category: The Bright Sessions (Podcast)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Multi, Polyamory, Telepathy, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 23:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveJoan/pseuds/DetectiveJoan
Summary: Mark wakes up alone, before dawn, in a too-big bed in a too-quiet house.(Mark/Chloe + Sunrise)





	Crawling Along The Hours

**Author's Note:**

> My rule of thumb is that I have to put a **content warning for age difference** anytime a ship's age gap is more than 5 years; these two are about 8 years apart. Please skip this fic if that's more than you're comfortable with.
> 
> Anyways, @Lauren give us more scenes between Repressed Trauma Boy and Relentless Optimism Girl, you coward
> 
> Lyrics from "[Waiting Around Again](https://elizarickman.bandcamp.com/track/waiting-around-again)" by Eliza Rickman

Mark wakes up alone, before dawn, in a too-big bed in a too-quiet house. It’s an experience that always feels unsettling, but perhaps more so now that it’s been a few weeks since it last happened.

He pulls on a hoodie and pokes his way through the house quickly enough. He can't find Sam — she’s on a trip, then — but Chloe’s sitting on the porch swing. Darwin is curled up in her lap, and there’s a mug of tea clutched in her hand as she gazes out at the beginnings of the sunrise. She doesn’t acknowledge him, but he knows she heard him open the front door and step outside.

There’s something about her face, so contemplative yet tired, that gives him pause. It strikes him suddenly, as it does sometimes, that she’s just a kid. She’s too young to look this weary; it makes his heart ache.

“You were just a kid when the A.M. got you,” Chloe says, voice early-morning scratchy. “Comparatively, I think I’m doing okay.”

“I was older than you are now,” he points out. “When I was your age I think I was still trying to figure out the best way to sneak alcohol into my dorm room, not wondering when my girlfriend was going to come home from her post-nightmare time travel trip.”

It’s not easy; it’s never easy, knowing that Sam is out there somewhere and somewhen, probably scared and hurting, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

Chloe shrugs, but her mouth twists. She finally looks over at him. “Will you come hold me?” she asks, voice small.

He sits beside her on the swing and wraps an arm around her shoulder. She nudges Darwin off her lap, curls her knees up to her chest, and leans into him. He can feel how warm the day is going to be, but the predawn air is still chilly, and Chloe’s bare arm is cool to the touch. He rests his chin on the top of her head.

Between the three of them, Chloe needs comfort the least often; Mark savors the moments like this when he can do something for her just by holding her close.

“I just wish there was something I could do for Sam, you know?” she says.

He does know, more than he could put into words. He wishes there was more he could do for both of them. Sam pulled him out of the past that had become his prison, and when he couldn’t figure out how to survive in the present, Chloe had pulled him out of the trap he'd made of his own mind. He owed them more than he’d ever be able to repay.

Watching either of them hurt like this always stings his heart as sharply as it would if he were mirroring an empath.

But even with all their superpowers layered over each other, there are limits to what they can do. They can’t give each other back lost youth or innocence. Today he can’t give Chloe a late morning lie-in or the reassurance that they’re always going to be okay. The truth is that they’re probably going to spend a lot of mornings exactly like this, watching the sunrise and waiting for Sam.

“At least we know she’s always going to come back to us,” Chloe offers, and runs her finger around the rim of her mug. “Right?”

Of course. They just have to give her time.


End file.
